‘Good night, Lord Tallant.’
‘Good night, Miss Bainbridge.’
Amy went slowly up the stone steps and slipped in at the ballroom door. The light seemed very bright. The ballroom was still full of chatter and over by the door Richard was supporting a tottering Lady Bainbridge out into the hall. It was time to go home. And nothing had changed.
Joss caught up with his sister Juliana as she was about to step into her carriage. She was not alone. She was leaning on the arm of Clive Massingham and it was obvious that they were leaving together. Equally obvious was the fact the Juliana did not care who knew, whereas Massingham looked slightly nervous to see Joss approaching them, though he soon covered it with his customary truculent expression.
Joss hesitated for the merest split second. ‘Juliana, a word with you, please.’
Juliana yawned widely. ‘Not now, Joss, not again! Can you not see that I am anxious to reach home—and my bed?’
Massingham laughed at the innuendo. Joss’s expression tightened. ‘Yes, now! It will take but a moment.’
Juliana turned a pettish shoulder. ‘Lud, you become more like our father every day! I declare, Joss, you will be spoiling your bad-boy reputation if you turn into a moralist!’
Joss gave Massingham a look of calculated dismissal. ‘What I have to say is private, Juliana. Perhaps you and Mr Massingham may meet up again later?’
Juliana laughed. ‘Oh, very well. You had better come with me in the carriage, Joss. Clive, darling…’ her voice sank to a throaty purr ‘…I shall be all of five minutes…’
‘I will count on that.’ Massingham took her hand and pressed a kiss ostentatiously on the palm.
Juliana gave a pleasurable shiver. ‘Forgive me if I embarrass you, Joss,’ she said with evident insincerity.
‘Your behaviour does not offend me in the least, Ju,’ Joss said coolly, ‘but the company you keep is beneath you. What you see in Massingham—’
‘Can you not imagine?’ Juliana allowed him to help her up into the carriage. ‘And I had heard that your imagination was so very…vivid…as well, Joss dearest, when it comes to matters of the heart! I hear that Harriet Templeton speaks so highly of you! But not recently. Recently I’m told she says your mind is distracted, darling…’
‘We were speaking of you and Massingham, I believe.’ Joss’s voice was hard.
‘Oh, yes.’ The undertone of amusement had returned to Juliana’s voice. ‘Are you concerned about his past relationship with our mother, Joss? He says that I am better than she—’
Joss’s fist hit the smooth leather of the seat with a smothered crash. ‘That is enough, Juliana!’
‘Oh, very well. I do but tease.’ Juliana’s eyes flashed. ‘Which reminds me—when are you to marry little Miss Innocence? What a change that will be for you, Joss! So much purity—I declare, it quite goes to one’s head!’
‘I infer you are speaking of Miss Bainbridge?’ Joss said coldly. ‘I have warned you before, Juliana—’
‘Oh, I will not speak of her to anyone else, of course, but you can confide in me, Joss.’ Juliana gave her feline smile. ‘Is she not the sweetest little thing? Too good for you, my dear!’
‘Precisely,’ Joss said, through shut teeth. ‘I can never aspire to marry Miss Bainbridge, Juliana—’
‘Stuff! Why ever not? When you are in love with her as well…’
‘My feelings are beside the point here. Miss Bainbridge should marry someone who can make up for the sufferings she has already endured. A reputation besmirched by years of gambling and womanising is scarcely much to offer, is it? Why, it is asking almost as much as acceptance of years of financial ruin!’
‘Lud, you are in love with her!’ For a moment Juliana’s voice had softened to something that Joss remembered. ‘You are too honourable, my dear. Just because George Bainbridge made his womenfolk suffer, it does not mean that Miss Bainbridge would find you an unacceptable suitor—’
‘Miss Bainbridge has exactly the right opinion of my gambling, Ju—she deplores it. Now—’ Joss clamped down on his temper with an effort ‘—may we speak instead of the matter in hand? I wish to know who it was told you of Miss Bainbridge’s lottery win.’
Juliana laughed. ‘Then you will have to go hang, my dear, for I cannot tell you. I may need to use that source again sometime!’
‘Was it Richard Bainbridge? I have yet to learn that he is in your thrall, but it may be so.’
‘No,’ Juliana said consideringly, ‘it was not he. Though you do give me an idea, Joss. If Massingham fails—’
‘Fails to do what?’ Joss’s voice had an edge to it. ‘Offer you marriage? You’ll be waiting a long time there, Ju!’
It was too dark to see his sister’s face but, though she took every pain to erase the hurt from her voice, he knew her too well. He heard it and understood it.
‘Lud, I am not hanging out to be Massingham’s wife! No, a better title is all that could capture me—’ Her voice broke and she hurried to cover it up. ‘But I will never tell you my informant, Joss, so you need not press me.’
Joss knew she would not. But the field was narrowing. If not Richard, then possibly Lady Bainbridge herself, or the Duke of Fleet, or even Amanda Spry…
‘I see you have taken up with Lady Spry again,’ he said carelessly. ‘Does it remind you of the old days?’
Juliana gave him a sharp look. ‘You’ll not catch me that way, Joss! No, Amanda Spry and I cannot be friends now. One grows apart from one’s girlhood friends.’
‘I see.’ Joss said slowly. ‘Perhaps seeing her reminds you too much of Myfleet? You were all friends once, were you not? He was a good man, Juliana—’
‘The best.’ Joss heard the edge of tears in his sister’s voice. ‘But now I have Massingham, remember? I fear I shall have to ask you to leave now, my dear. You are tedious dull tonight, and if there is one thing that I cannot bear, it is to be bored.’
‘Amy dear, you seem most distracted this morning.’ Lady Bainbridge’s faintly querulous voice made Amy jump and she dropped her bread honey-side down on the carpet. There was just the two of them for breakfast and for most of the meal Lady Bainbridge had kept up a lament about the events of the previous night—how could the spiteful Lady Juliana ever have heard the truth, what sort of wicked rumours would be circulating that morning, what was to become of them all now…? Amy had barely noticed her diatribe, for she was struggling with difficulties of her own. Shortly she would have to face Joss in the daylight and pretend that the previous evening was forgotten, yet she did not feel the same about him and, more confusingly still, she was not even sure what she did feel.
‘I beg your pardon, Mama,’ she said. ‘I was thinking about what to do—’
‘Precisely!’ Lady Bainbridge looked triumphant. ‘We must come up with a plan. I knew I should not have worn the yellow slippers yesterday, for yellow is a most unlucky colour and I should have known something bad would happen. Oh, that wretched Juliana Myfleet! She always was a wicked girl and now she has ruined things for you, Amy. Ruined! You will not catch a respectable husband now, for ton society cannot look kindly on a fortune derived from gambling. Not in a woman!’
The blatant double standard in this jerked Amy out of her preoccupation.
‘Well, that is the biggest hypocrisy I have ever heard!’ she said indignantly. ‘Fortunes are won and lost at the tables all the time, yet no one condemns the gamblers! Not that I wish to catch a husband, Mama, as I told you from the first!’
Lady Bainbridge chose to ignore this. ‘It may be hypocrisy, but it is the way of the world. To win the lottery is not respectable. Oh, to think that I told all those people about Aunt Bessie’s legacy and now they are all laughing at me. It is too much!’
Amy privately thought that her mother had already been halfway to believing in the late Aunt Bessie and her legacy, and would probably soon say that the rumours were not respectful to her memory. She knew that Lady Bainbridge must be suffering. Her mothe
r had always been so concerned with society’s opinion, a fact that had given her much mortification when George Bainbridge had embarrassed her with his financial disasters. This new gossip would be most hurtful to her, whereas Amy was tempted to tell all the scandalmongers to go hang.
‘I think we shall just have to ignore the gossip, Mama,’ she said. ‘If we carry on as though nothing has happened—’
Lady Bainbridge looked horrified. ‘Oh, that is not to be thought of! I could not possibly walk into another ballroom now. No, Amy, I have plans for us to retire from town at once. If we go to Nettlecombe for a space, matters may settle down and we may return next season. Of course you will be older by then, and there are those who already think you at your last prayers, but it cannot be helped. No, I am decided! We leave for the country at the end of this week.’
Amy made an exasperated gesture. ‘Mama, I cannot bear for us to appear to be running away from this. It is not that important.’
Lady Bainbridge looked outraged. ‘Of course it is important! We are running away.’
Amy sighed. It was the old pattern repeating itself, of course, for her mother had had only one way of dealing with the scandals that had surrounded her life. Whenever George Bainbridge had been financially embarrassed, his wife had suffered an equivalent social embarrassment. They had removed Amy from her schools and her friends, they had moved to different lodgings, they had retired to the country, all to save face as well as save money. Amy could not be surprised that her mother was reacting this way now. She made a last appeal.
‘Mama, I have so many plans that I do not wish to put off. Why, Amanda and I were going to attend the victory celebrations in St James’s Park.’
Lady Bainbridge shuddered. ‘If you wish to be cut dead by all of our acquaintance, Amy, then pray remain in town. I shall be going to Nettlecombe as soon as I may arrange it!’
Amy could see the tears in her mother’s eyes. She felt the exasperation swell up and stifled it. To argue now would only upset her mother further. She patted her hand instead.
‘Very well, Mama. We shall go to the country if you wish it.’
Lady Bainbridge’s blue eyes swam with tears. ‘Thank you, my love. I confess that will set my mind at rest.’ She frowned a little. ‘There is something else that concerns me, however—that most unsuitable young man, brother to that hateful Juliana Myfleet. There has been talk, Amy—’
Amy stood up abruptly. She had been prepared to humour her mother on other points, but she did not want to talk about Joss. It felt like trying to walk on a twisted ankle.
‘I collect that you mean the Earl of Tallant. He is suitable enough to be a friend of Richard’s—’
‘Oh, yes, but that is quite different, for he is rich and if Richard can win from him…But for you, my love it is quite another matter. Though I suppose,’ Lady Bainbridge said, diverted momentarily, ‘he is vastly handsome…’
‘Well, you need not worry, Mama.’ Amy moved towards the door. ‘Since we shall be leaving London soon I shall have no more opportunity to see him.’
‘No more you shall!’ Lady Bainbridge said, brightening. ‘That is all right then!’
‘I am going to visit Mrs Wendover this morning,’ Amy said, pausing with her hand on the doorjamb. ‘I thought to take some food and some clothing for the children and books for the school.’
‘That is kind of you, my love,’ Lady Bainbridge said. She looked up sharply. ‘You had better take Patience with you. Oh, and you had better procure a hack! Do not take the carriage to Whitechapel, not when it is so new! I could not bear for it to be damaged!’
‘I wondered whether you had seen this,’ Amanda Spry said, reluctantly holding out a sheet of paper to her friend. It was the evening and Amy, out of deference to Lady Bainbridge’s wishes, had cancelled her attendance at a musicale and chosen instead to spend a quiet evening at home with her friend. Yet even here, it seemed, gossip pursued her. She took the scandal sheet from Amanda’s hand and perused the doggerel written there:
Little Miss B
Who lived retired
To gambling and marriage
Never aspired
Now tempted to sin
By a lottery win
She plays for high stakes
With the greatest of rakes.’
‘Oh dear.’ Amy put the sheet down gently. Her first impulse had been to thrust it into the fire before Lady Bainbridge saw it, but now she scanned the rhyme again. ‘I am not entirely clear what they are lampooning me for? Is it for the lottery win or for the time I am spending with Lord Tallant?’ she sighed. ‘Both, I suppose.’
Amanda’s blue eyes scanned her face thoughtfully. ‘You do not seem much concerned, Amy! If it were me I should have left town already! I cannot bear people speaking scandal about me.’
Amy shrugged with an assumption of ease. ‘It will die away when the next on-dit comes along! I know I am considered an original and society so dislikes someone who does not fit in! Give that person a fortune and…’ She shrugged again. ‘It is easy to see why I am unpopular.’
Amanda was still watching her with concern. ‘And what of Lord Tallant’s part in this? He does not seem concerned that he has made you an object of scandal.’
‘That is putting it far too strongly.’ Amy spoke firmly. ‘Just because I have chosen to spend some time in Lord Tallant’s company should not give rise to speculation!’
Amanda gave her a pitying glance. ‘Perhaps it should not, but it has! A rake of Lord Tallant’s reputation accompanying you to charity concerts and almshouses! Half the people are saying that he has been making a game of you and the other half that he must be hunting your fortune—’
She broke off at the angry flash in Amy’s eyes. ‘I beg your pardon, Amy. That was unpardonably rude of me.’ She spread her hands in a gesture of appeal. ‘It is simply that I am worried about you! Lord Tallant—’
‘There is nothing scandalous between Lord Tallant and myself, Amanda,’ Amy said, feeling herself blush. If only her friend realised how desperately Amy wished the reverse were true! Ever since the previous night, Amy had found her thoughts returning to Joss’s kiss with tiresome repetition. She had been so tongue-tied in his company that afternoon that it had been fortunate they had been looking at an exhibition of art, for it gave her the excuse to keep quiet as she contemplated the pictures. Certainly Joss did not appear to have noticed anything different in her demeanour and he had seemed quite preoccupied himself.
‘It will all blow over,’ she said again, with more composure than she was feeling. ‘It only requires a Countess to run off with her footman and I shall be quite forgotten!’
‘I envy you your hardihood,’ Amanda said. ‘What if it were something truly scandalous, Amy, such as your sojourn in Whitechapel when you were a girl? How would you feel if that story got out?’
Amy raised her brows. ‘Living in Whitechapel is hardly a scandal, Amanda, although it is not something that I would wish to be common knowledge. In the end I would have to say that if people wish to speak of it, let them do so!’
Amanda shook her head. ‘I believe that you are deliberately misunderstanding me! There must be something that you have done in the past you would not wish people to know! Everyone has their secrets.’
Amy searched her mind for something so reprehensible that she would fear it coming out. Her memory remained obstinately blank. She shook her head.
‘No. I fear that I have led a very dull life. No one could blackmail me for my fortune!’
A tinge of colour came into Amanda’s cheeks. ‘So you are to go to Nettlecombe. I think that I shall leave town when you do, Amy. It will not be so much fun without you.’
Amy stared. ‘Why ever should you do that? You know that you adore the balls and parties and you have plenty of friends here.’
Amanda sighed. ‘I do not have many real friends, Amy, only acquaintances.’
‘But surely…there is Emma Wren and Lady Juliana—’
Amand
a met Amy’s eye. Her own were bright with some emotion that Amy could not identify. ‘Oh, stuff! They are no friends of mine! Emma is too fast for me—her behaviour gives me quite a disgust! As for Juliana…’ Amanda’s voice slowed. ‘Well, we were friends once, perhaps, but that was in the days when Lord Myfleet was alive. Juliana was different then. She was not so hard. Now…’ Amanda sighed. ‘I declare she is quite another person!’
‘Perhaps she is unhappy,’ Amy said. She did not wish to think kindly of Lady Juliana after the way that she had behaved towards her and yet something prompted her to be generous. Perhaps it was the echo of Joss’s words: My sister at one time seemed exceptionally happy with her husband. If Edwin Myfleet had not died, matters might well have been very different.
‘Perhaps so.’ Now there was a hard edge to Amanda’s voice. ‘She is not the only one, however.’
Amy put her knotting to one side and took Amanda’s hands in hers. ‘Mandy, I had no idea…’
‘It does not matter.’ Amanda, whom Amy had always thought of as elegant to a fault, now gave a most inelegant sniff. She snatched her hands away and stood up hurriedly. ‘It is nothing to the purpose. Excuse me, Amy, I must go home. I have the headache.’
‘Oh, but—’ Amy was at a loss, wanting to help her friend and yet realising that Amanda did not want to talk. ‘I will see you before we leave town?’
‘Of course.’ Amanda gave her a watery smile. ‘Excuse me,’ she said again. ‘I fear that the megrim always makes me tearful.’ Upon which blatantly untrue note she went out, leaving Amy to wonder what on earth could be the matter.
Chapter Eleven
‘You are fast ruining my bad reputation, Miss Bainbridge,’ Joss said resignedly, as Amy leaned out of his phaeton to hand him a pile of blankets, a hamper of food and a bag of medicines. ‘Yesterday I was delivering school books for the orphans of St Boniface and today I am visiting in Windsor! Whatever next?’
The Earl's Prize (Harlequin Historical) Page 19